For The Grace Of God
by Faline1
Summary: Beck’s got a real war on his hands now and there’s far too much going on to be thinking about anyone. Especially not a female. Especially not Heather Lisinsky.
1. Chapter 1

He was home, when it happened

Title: For The Grace Of God (1/?)

Author: Faline

Rating: PG for now

Timeline: Post series, follow up to 'Admitting One's Destiny'

Summary: Beck's got a real war on his hands now and there's far too much going on to be thinking about anyone. Especially not a female. Especially not Heather Lisinsky.

- - - - - - - - - -

He was home, when it happened. Not real home, but base. Fort Polk. Louisiana. Home was in Colorado with his wife and child. They were intending to visit for the weekend, just a few days off.

It had been not even two weeks when the division had returned stateside and it had to coincide with a new recruit cycle. Of course. Exhausted, in every possible way, he was talking with his wife when the phone cut out.

Supremely irritated, Edward Beck had tried to redial, getting no dial tone whatsoever on the cell. So, he picked up the landline.

The running steps in the hall outside his room picked at his ears and he rose from his desk, pulling on his coat, and stepping out in to the hallway. The PFC almost bowled him over without even seeing him.

The young man didn't even pause. A mumbled apology and he was around the corner and gone. Beck was tempted to go after him, make his day a little horrible, but something felt off to him. His spidey sense was tingling, as Mallory would say.

The thought of his daughter brought the lost phone call back to his mind. His feet carried him to the office next door quickly. A Major Reynolds's office. He'd yet to meet the man, having always arrived at a different time than the other. Reynolds wasn't there now and he continued, just walking right out the door.

The yard was in chaos.

Brigadier General Felton was yelling. This was unusual on base. The General was one of the quieter CO's that Beck had worked with. But he was sure worked up at that moment. He had a bevy of first and second lieutenants rushing away from him after getting rushed instruction.

Beck hurried over.

It took him a few minutes to be noticed. What he heard in the meantime chilled his bones. The US had been bombed! Shock stole the warmth from his body as the cities hit were listed off by people nearby with radios.

"Captain Beck!" Colonel Hoffman's voice caught Beck's attention and he turned crisply and saluted his direct CO. Hoffman returned it and beckoned him away from the General.

"Have you heard?"

"Yes sir!"

The Colonel nodded thoughtfully and continued leading Beck away. They were headed for the Colonel's office. "We're not sure where the attack came from and at the moment, we don't care. Dallas was hit, so we've got about four hours before the fallout hits us. Get your troops in formation. We need to start battening down the hatches."

Another quick solute and the Colonel was gone, disappearing inside his office building. Beck watched the door close before he turned and started off towards his company's barracks.

It seemed as though they had just finished storing all the gear that was left on the ground when the winds picked up. The storm clouds could be seen rolling in from the west and time was running out.

Three of his sergeants had supervised the men, getting them in to the fallout shelter located under the mess hall. His last, a taller man with lean features, Thames had remained outside with him, watching the sky.

"Sir, do we know of any other bombs? The men are all frantic, trying to find out if their families are safe."

Beck glanced at Thames, hearing the worry in the man's voice. His eyes were still skyward, not really feeling the need to directly address his CO. Thames was a good man, and an even better soldier. He was always finding the next thing to accomplish before the first was even done which made him one of the most speedy workers in the company.

He'd been promoted as soon as they'd returned from the sand pit.

The look on his face was unlike his usual stoic nature now. Panic almost. Beck knew the man had a wife of his own who'd stayed in his hometown in Illinois. He seemed to remember Thames mentioning a son, born a few months in to their deployment.

"Word is spotty at the moment. We're getting information in slowly though. We know of twelve so far. Atlanta, Boston, LA, Denver, Dallas, San Diego, Baltimore, Houston, Seattle, Norfolk, Chicago, and DC."

He said the last two a little slower to allow the man time to digest. Thames' eyes turned slowly to him and the panic washed out in to horror. "But, DC . . . that means . . . "

Beck nodded. "The President is dead." He placed a hand on Thames shoulder. "Come on Sergeant. We need to get inside."

The sound of rain drops followed them along the metal roof all the way down to the shelter. Beck checked the door after a private closed and locked it, ensuring that it was properly shut.

- - - - - - - - - -

The sound of rain startled Beck awake. The black of the night enveloped him and the humidity in the air caused a brief moment of panic to flutter in his stomach. A few deep breaths later and he rose to a sitting position. He brought a hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

He hadn't dreamed of the first day in months. Not since they'd been stationed indefinitely in Fort Hayward. Before he'd come to Jericho.

Beck's feet swung over the edge of his cot and he leaned his elbows forward, bracing them on his knees. Those first few days had been hard. Chaos had erupted everywhere at once. The small town right off of base had flooded their gates as soon as the rain had let up. Two thousand scared and angry men, women, and children all banging for entry.

Beck wasn't even sure what had happened with the townsfolk. Within an hour of the end of the rain he was on the road with two other companies, headed west.

Just west.

Everywhere. Just chaos.

He rubbed his eyes trying to wipe away the images of the towns and cities and the camps. Especially the FEMA camps. As those thoughts invaded his mind he stood and pulled on a pair of shorts. Walking to the door to his tent, he pushed on the canvas.

The awning over his entrance made a fantastic wind tunnel and his skin slowly cooled. It was just a spring shower.

It would do the land good. Renewal being so fantastic and all that.

He guessed the time to be roughly four AM. If the clouds hadn't been there, he'd be able to just see the beginnings of the sun's ascent. As it was, he knew the guards on duty by sight and knew they had drawn the short stick for the week, getting stuck with the third shift. The shorter one, he was a reader. His nose was buried in some book and Beck should go yell at him.

He'd taken it easy on his men. Their country had just betrayed them as well. Aside from a handful that refused to listen and had been stuck in a safe house a few miles on the other side of town, his company was in agreement. The ASA was not the rightful government.

He sighed and turned to go back inside.

It had been exactly four days and about fourteen hours since finding out the people who'd been supervising his army as well as this country were corrupt. Four days and fourteen hours since he learned that his wife and daughter had been dead for months now.

Beck supposed, again, that it was at least a relief to know that they weren't going to be out there, abandoned, when the next civil war broke out.

The re-enforcements that Valente had promised would arrive had not made an appearance yet. The secure connection between his office in Town Hall and the Cheyenne office had been severed the day after Jake Green had smuggled a nuclear device in to Texas.

A Morse code message from Cheyenne, with the strangest encryption his men had ever run across, assured him that troops were on their way. As soon as they could travel the roads. Whatever that meant.

Beck wouldn't hold his breath for their arrival. He would, however, hold his breath for the scheme the town had come up with to contact their man in Texas. A small contingent of mechanics, electronics, and computer nerds were trying to fix up their only remaining HAM radio to broad cast to San Antonio.

Beck wasn't sure how they'd get an encrypted message across these airwaves, but damn if he didn't like watching them work.

He shook his head at that thought. Of course he liked watching them work. Heather was the ring leader. Of course. He dropped the shorts and wandered back to bed. The covers were unnecessary at the moment and he kicked them happily to the bottom of his bunk.

Heather. The very thought of who had been one of the very few ways he'd made it this far. Heather who had secured the support of the townsfolk and made them see that he really wasn't evil. Heather who had wiped away his tears.

Although alone in the tent, Beck blushed at the memory. For someone always used to being in control, it seemed a shame that the one time he'd probably been able to allow someone else to see his fragile grip on it, they happened to be the one person he absolutely shouldn't be involved in.

At least not right now.

With a fight on the way and still no way to contact either Texas or the command out East short of driving there Beck needed to not think about her or her incredibly soft hands. His men, and the people of this town, needed him to be there.

He'd survived countless clashes with hostiles. He'd been to Iraq and the Mog and the Czech.

Heather Lisinsky was far too dangerous to think about.

His eyes closed and he was determined to catch the last hour and a half of sleep he wanted before getting back to not paying attention to Heather.

**To Be Continued**


	2. Chapter 2

Beck wouldn't have pegged Heather for an 'easy listening' type person

Title: For The Grace Of God (2/?)

Author: Faline

Rating: PG for now

Timeline: Post series, follow up to 'Admitting One's Destiny'

Summary: Beck's got a real war on his hands now and there's far too much going on to be thinking about anyone. Especially not a female. Especially not Heather Lisinsky.

_A/N: Sorry about the wait on an update. I've got midterms this week. It's been pretty much insane at the moment. ;)_

.-. . .- -.-. ... .. -. --. -- ..- - .-- .- .-. -..

Beck wouldn't have pegged Heather for an 'easy listening' type person. More AC/DC or Boston. Maybe Queen. But, the sounds drifting to his ears now were definitely 'light'. He didn't recognize the singer. Some woman going on about dear God and saving the world.

He smiled to himself as he cleared the final corner and paused at the entrance to the Sheriff's Department motor pool. The room had been converted to the 'tech' center, so to speak with the seven or eight civilian specialists working on their HAM radio.

Beck smiled because there was only one civilian specialist working at the moment and she was singing with her whole heart. He watched Heather's dark head bob slightly to the music as she inspected the radio.

Crossing his arms, he leaned against the door jam. The radio had successfully made contact with a battalion of Texan soldiers in Amarillo the night before. The signal had been so encrypted, his chief communications officer wasn't sure the Texans would understand.

But they had.

Within four hours of their initial contact they'd received a phone call on a cell left with Darcy Hawkins from the heroes of the hour themselves. It was a simple matter of explaining the circumstances behind the encamped company's defection from the AS military.

Beck was just glad Hawkins and Jake had believed him.

Heather assuring them both that it was the truth couldn't have hurt. Not at all. Jake had sounded disbelieving at the very least, more angry and concerned truth be told. Beck couldn't possibly blame him for his distrust. The last time Jake and Beck had been in the same room, one of them had been tortured.

Beck winced at the memory, still smarting from the extremely bad choices that he'd made and orders he'd listened to. All in the name of a bunk government.

When all this was over, he was going to buy Jake Green a beer. Maybe a humvee. If possible.

After that short contact to Texas, the HAM had bit it. Maggie Mullen, a refugee from Columbus, had sworn up and down the rig would work, but after she missed a few stripped wires Heather politely nudged her aside and set about rebuilding the contraption.

Beck knew that's what Heather was working on now. Had been for the better part of eleven hours too. She still had a lot of spunk though, with her music and the way her fingers were sorting through wires on the inside of the radio casing.

He couldn't for the life of him remember why he'd come down here. It was just as well, he mused, because he'd rather be watching Heather. She had her hair held back by clips on both sides, keeping it away from her eyes. Jeans covered legs that Beck knew he shouldn't be so fascinated with and for once, she wasn't wearing a red top.

She was wearing a military issue jacket that he'd handed over gladly when she'd mentioned how many pockets his had. He'd wanted to find a fitting name patch to give her, but hadn't. He'd wanted to give her something memorable, but the best he'd been able to procure from Logistics was that jacket, already used.

The smile on her face when he'd handed it over, though, had made him feel as though he was the only one in the world that would ever see that smile. And he liked that feeling. A lot, in fact.

It felt strange for him to be thinking of Heather so much. Up until a week ago he'd spent almost every moment thinking about his wife and daughter. After the long months of wondering about them, the release of knowing where they were, dead, was in a very sick and morbid way gratifying.

He had loved his wife. Still did. But at this point, he didn't ever want his wife to see what he'd become. The cold man who'd terrorized a town. She would have never forgiven him; that much was true. Forgiveness was a trait she did not possess in abundance. But Heather did. One of her more plentiful traits was her ability to forgive anyone.

Beck knew at his core that he wasn't an evil man and he didn't enjoy what he'd done during his time in Jericho. He actually didn't enjoy much of anything that had happened in the last six months.

Jericho hadn't been the first town to have Major Edward Beck sent to them.

Thankfully they would be the last.

"Are you going to stand there all day Major, or come in and at least talk to me. I'm freaking sick and tired of looking at this radio. I'd like to get it finished before dinner though. Figured you'd want to use it again soon. What, with the defection and all."

Heather's voice startled him out of his ruminating and he glanced up at her face to find a mischievous smile on her face. She winked at him, actually winked, and went back to tinkering.

So, Beck took her invitation and walked over to the station she was working at. He stood casually, quickly going over excuses in his head for why he'd be down there. He wasn't coming up with anything exciting.

Heather glanced sideways at him, a smile still on her face, and said, "You look like you've got a lot on your mind. You're free to share if you think it'll help."

Beck couldn't help but laugh at that. Here he was thinking about how trusting Heather was and she was offering an open ear for him, as though he was quite so trusting. He shook his head after the chuckle subsided. "Nothing that needs sharing really. Just thinking about . . . logistics." It was the first word he could think of.

Silence fell around them, comfortable yet pregnant with curiosity. It was practically pouring off of Heather. It must have gotten the better of her because she withdrew her hands and placed them on either side of the radio.

"So, Major, why'd you join the army?" Her question was out of the blue. Beck found himself unsure of how to respond. It almost felt like a trick question. Did she want to know because she honestly cared or was she still concerned that his training might come back to kick them all in the ass?

She raised an eyebrow and said, "Well?"

Beck cleared his throat and adjusted slightly, leaning his backside against the table next to Heather. "Well," he certainly put an emphasis on the well, "I joined out of High School. The town I grew up in wasn't really boring by any means, but I wanted to get a different sort of education that the one the community college had to offer."

"Blowing stuff up 101, huh?" she laughed lightly and slipped her right hand back in to the casing. Her eyes were now on the box, though he could tell she wanted to hear more.

He watched her work. It was fascinating to see her go through minute items on the box and know what they did. He'd never had much of a hand for electronics. "Sharp shooter actually."

She murmured an 'ahhhh' in understanding before grabbing a pair of piers and a soldering iron. The smell of melted metal filled the room. He continued watching her. Her hands were small but sure. The fact that this was taking 11 hours to fix was just a testament to how truly broken the radio was.

"I've been trying to think of how to get some better intel from Amarillo but I'm not coming up with any good ideas. The radio, once you get it up and running again, will be helpful but we could use some visuals. Do you have any ideas?"

It was the least lame excuse he had imagined out of thin air but it was a pretty good one. He honestly wouldn't mind the intel, and neither would his strategist. If Heather had an answer for this one, he'd be amazed.

Well, more amazed than he was already which would be surprising in itself.

She nodded her head and gave him a small smile. "I've been talking with Mac about this actually."

"Mac?"

She chuckled. "Yeah. I take it you haven't met her yet."

Beck was confused, having believed that he'd met all of Jericho's residents over the last few days in an effort to connect with them on a level that was more approachable than an Army Major.

"Her full name is Angela MacDonald. I call her Mac. She's the closest thing Jericho has to a computer genius. She was helping around the school in the IT department. She also owned the Cyber Café. Not a whole lot of work for her to do these days, what with there being limited access to any networks."

Heather put down the tools she was using and turned the Beck. He could see she was excited about the goings on, so much that a smile was lighting up her face. "She thinks, though, that she can digitally repair the internet by herself as long as she has viable cable between here and wherever."

This was great news indeed. With secure internet connections, they could start sharing maps and a better conversation between ranks.

Plus, with a video conference he could personally convince Hawkins and Jake that he was in for the long haul.

"Does she need anything? I can have anything sent over that she might use."

Heather shrugged. Beck was fascinated. This woman was making his dreams come true, one small step at a time. She looked back down at the radio. "I suppose if we work on any avenue of communication, using this one will pale in comparison. So, if you'd like, we can head over to Mac's and talk to her."

The woman at his side took off the light leather work gloves she'd been wearing on the table and straightened her spine. She took a moment to stretch, offering a sliver of flesh through the jacket where her black shirt rose slightly above her waistband. Beck turned his head away and straightened himself.

"You mentioned dinner. Would you like to get something to eat after we visit your friend?" Beck hoped that hadn't sounded like anything more than just an invitation between himself and the local Army Liaison to get chow.

He definitely hoped it didn't sound like he was asking Heather to get dinner.

He waited, his eyes catching hers. He wanted to smile at her but he couldn't make his face work to reassure her.

He shouldn't have worried though. Heather smiled enough for the both of them these days. Since his defection she was always smiling around him and he realized she'd mostly stopped when she'd taken the paper from that folder in his office.

"I'd love to."

With Heather leading the way, the two of them left the tech room behind and made their way to Beck's humvee waiting outside.

-.-. -- -. -. . -.-. - .. ...- .. - -.—

From the description Heather gave on the way out to Mac's farm, Beck was expecting acres of land and a large house. The location was neither, which explained why he hadn't known about the location being what it was.

A standard double wide trailer was nestled back from the road, most of it obscured from trees. He didn't even remember making a conscious note that this was here before now and he could only mentally applaud the owner for creating such a non-descript location.

There were wires and cables of all sorts coming to and from the house. A few basic cables, a telephone, and a much larger cable which he knew to be a T3 connection from his time in training.

Heather started up the front steps but a sound that reminded him of a gun being cocked stopped both of them. She glanced at him nervously and looked around for the source of the sound. He wasn't going to wait that long. He tucked Heather under his arm and forced her back to the truck.

"Major, what's going on?" He held up a finger, signaling her to be quiet, and got her inside the vehicle. He knew there wasn't a whole lot he'd find in Western Kansas that'd be able to bust through the new armor plating on the humvees, effectively making Heather's seat the safest in a five mile radius at the moment.

With her out of the way Beck dropped in to combat mode instantaneously. He drew his side arm and approached the side of the trailer. Thankfully there were no outlying buildings and the trees weren't all that thick. The sound had to have come from in or around the building.

He rounded the back side and felt that he was doing so blindly. He'd love to have back-up but he'd been stupid in coming out here alone with Heather. If she was hurt, if this unknown armed person managed to get to her, he'd never be able to forgive himself. Forgiveness was now such an integral part of his existence.

The back of the trailer was just as bare as the front. Nothing cluttering the ground around it. He noticed something strange in the woods about fifteen feet out however. There were covered vents coming up from the ground. Three of them to be laid out in a half circle about twenty feet apart from one another.

He approached the closest one. The gun shot echoed through the trees and he crouched, flattening against the nearest tree. The shot had come from above. He looked up through the branches and found the gunman.

"You've got about thirty seconds to explain what you're doing on my property before I put the next bullet in your body."

Make that a gunwoman. She was about fifteen feet up, on the far side of the trailer. A hunting blind was partially obscured in a close cropping of three trees. His gun lowered when he recognized the Browning BAR the woman held to her shoulder.

His gun was lowered to the ground and he stood, slowly. "I'm here to see Mac. I have Heather Lisinsky with me. Are you Mac?"

There was a deafening silence from above and if the woman hadn't been wearing tactical gear on her face she probably would have been looking at him suspiciously. After tense moments, the weapon was lowered from her shoulder. "Where's Heather?"

Beck opened his mouth to reply, but another voice beat him to the point. "For the love of all that is holy Mac you scared the crap out of me. Now get out of that tree and get down here." Beck hadn't heard Heather approach, but she appeared along the far side of the building, her arms crossed and her face ablaze.

The woman in the tree, now known to be Angela MacDonald, sighed and slung the weapon across her back. She made quick work of the ladder and was soon standing on the ground. Beck picked up his sidearm and holstered it, approaching the two women who were now hugging.

"I'm sorry about that. I saw the humvee. Then two people in military coats. With all the activity out of Cheyenne the last few days I couldn't be too cautious." The mask was pulled from her face and Beck saw Mac. She was a beautiful woman. A few inches taller than Heather with shoulder length blond hair and full lips.

She held out a hand as he approached and smiled, probably to make her look more friendly. Her eyes were a perfect cerulean blue. Beck grasped the offered hand, giving it a quick shake. "Major Edward Beck."

He smile twitched in amusement and Mac looked back at Heather. There was something telling in her eyes that Beck couldn't translate. "It's nice to meet you Major. Heather has spoken of you fondly."

Perhaps that was what he'd seen. Fondness. He wished that thought wasn't so dismal. "You mentioned activity coming out of Cheyenne?"

She grinned this time and motioned for the two to follow her. They were at the back door in ten steps and Mac entered a code on a keypad he hadn't noticed during his visual sweep. He was getting too lax apparently. "Yup. I've got some interesting satellite imaging that's showing massive deployments from Cheyenne. There's a convoy that just left that I think is heading through this area. When they get the roads clear."

That phrase again. Beck had a lot of questions and this woman seemed like she was about to give him all the answers. "I'd love to take a look at that footage, as soon as possible."

**To Be Continued**


	3. Chapter 3

The double wide trailer wasn't

The double wide trailer wasn't. It was completely gutted, leaving a fifty foot by thirty foot room that was bare of decoration or furniture. The floor was wooden, nothing more than cheap looking snap in boards while the walls were all still bare plasterboard.

The only feature to the room was what appeared to be escape hatches. There were two in the room, one on the north side and one on the south. Mac headed towards the southern hatch and lifted it up.

Heather followed without seeming surprised which surprised Beck. It seemed like this would be the type of situation his liaison would be likely to inform him about. He pushed aside the anger that jumped at the thought of Heather keeping something like this from him. She probably had a real good reason for not saying anything.

The two women descended down in to the floor and Beck followed. It was a relatively narrow passageway over lit by a single light at the bottom of the steps. They went down about twenty feet, most of it passing in near darkness. Beck actually ran in to Heather once when she stopped too quickly at the bottom of the stairs.

His hands caught her shoulders, stopping her forward momentum, when she started to fall. "I'm sorry." He was almost whispering, his head almost next to hers. With the light almost directly above them now, he could see clearly. Her eyes found his and she gave him a reassuring smile before looking away. What could have been a blush flooded her face before she moved through the door Mac had opened at the bottom.

Another digital entry code. How in the hell did this woman have this sort of equipment.

They emerged into an ante chamber of what Beck could only guess was a fallout shelter. There were three crawl spaces leading to blackness. The ante chamber housed a small cubical, directly in front of them, that was open to reveal a shower. Another chamber was directly next to it. The toilet perhaps.

He couldn't contain his amazement this time. "What the hell is going on?"

Mac laughed before heading to the left. She pushed a button next to the door and the darkness vanished, revealing a long chamber beyond the crawl space. "Welcome to the Hive Major Beck."

Her reference was lost on him. Both women crawled through the path which Beck could see opened in to a chamber thirty feet long by ten feet tall. He followed, unwilling to leave Heather alone.

Mac deposited her rifle in a gun stand next to the entrance. There were a few other rifles and a shot gun leaning there and the side arm he had tucked in his holster would have been ashamed to be near them. All high powered and all expensive.

Immediately past the stand, on both sides, were bunks. One on top and one on bottom on both walls. None of them looked used, still having crisp military corners on them and looking just made. Obviously Mac didn't sleep here nightly.

Perhaps she had a house elsewhere.

His attention was grabbed by the wall of monitors past the bunks. Both walls, again, were covered. Top to bottom, in all roughly fifteen computer screens flickered to life as Mac turned them on one by one.

"This is what you could call my commend center Major. I have four CPUS set up on the network along with a connection that runs from here to Cheyenne and even one down to Texas."

Heather murmured her approval. "You've been busy the last few days. Last time I was down here you were only able to bring up grainy images from that satellite."

Beck joined Heather, standing behind Mac as she took her seat and started typing furiously on one of the two keyboards on the desk. "When was the last time you were here Heather?"

She glanced at him and Beck could feel amusement in that look. "A few days ago. Right after your defection. I wanted to have someone keeping an eye on Cheyenne lest they realize that you're no longer with them. Now that Mac has her tricks in place, we should know anything that's going on in all three countries."

This was almost too much for Beck to handle. The combination of the computer lab/fall out shelter and Heather knowing about it and still not telling him made him unavoidable angry now. "Were you going to tell me ever if I hadn't asked you for your help?" He couldn't keep the bite out of his voice.

i"I trusted you. I stood up for you."/i

Memory flooded him. That first moment when Heather admitted that she had betrayed him. It brought the pain of that moment bubbling back to the surface.

Heather's look was pained when she faced him. Again, the memory of that moment, her denial of his command and the subsequent betrayal of her own trust as she was lead away swam to the front of him vision. He had hurt her. And she had hurt him.

This time was different though. This time, she'd with held information that could have helped him prepare for the coming war. Could have helped prepare her town. If there were troops headed this way they didn't have a whole lot of time before they arrived. How was he supposed to protect her if she didn't even help him?

It was that last thought that stopped his mind in it's tracks. He wanted to keep her safe, above all else. Perhaps more than even himself at this point. And now he understood that he wasn't angry at her.

He was angry at himself for not already making provisions for the worst. They'd almost been shot earlier. And he hadn't even taken back-up with him.

Heather looked away before he did, tears threatening to fall. Mac watched the interchange in the reflection on one of her monitors. She waiting a few more seconds until Beck looked down himself before clearing her throat.

"I swore here to secrecy until it was imperative that I inform the local military about my existence and this facility Major. She was protecting me."

His head snapped up and looked down at Mac. She was still tapping away at her keyboard. One of the higher monitors flickered with information and he realized he was looking at a military file. For a Sergeant Madelyn Wood, honorably discharged 4/13/01. The picture was Angela, but this file was in its original format. She had not altered it.

He glanced over it, noting that she had been with the Rangers serving two tours in the middle east. A good majority of her file was titled Top Secret. At the bottom, it listed injury as the reason for discharge.

A few more taps on the keyboard and the screen changed; another personnel file filling the space now.

iRavenwood/i

"You're a contractor?"

He stepped forward and leaned on the desk with both hands, reading all of the fine print. She had been to the Middle East, including Afghanistan and Pakistan on five separate occasions. Mostly recon and surveillance. This file had a note on it too, but not quite as polite.

"This file says you stole Ravenwood property and are at large."

He looked at her, surprised.

She nodded at him. A few more key strokes and an overhead image of a town appeared on the center console. It was a town square destroyed by munitions. There were bodies lying around the central point in town, probably the town square. She zoomed in on the image and he was appalled to see that every body was female or a child.

"If you've read Jake Green's file you know that he defected from Ravenwood after killing an unarmed civilian child. Well, that didn't make the news because Ravenwood doesn't allow things like that to clear the radio waves. It was actually Green's fault that our protocols were slightly different when I went to the sand pit. We traveled in escorts of ten to fifteen for the larger shipments. Any town offering resistance was systematically wiped from the map. This town, somewhere in Pakistan I don't even know where, was the last assignment I was sent on. A small boy, maybe five or six, had pulled a gun on one of our guys. It was real enough and that was all we needed. The convoy stopped and we collected everyone in the town to the center square.

Than, we killed them. All of them. Afterwards, we set charges in all the buildings and blew it to God and back again to cover up our trail. We weren't even supposed to be in Pakistan. But, we were, and all of us murdered hundreds of unarmed civilians."

She stopped typing long enough to turn in her chair and face him fully. "I don't tell you this because I want you to think me a monster. I tell you this because Ravenwood is still looking for me. I stole a helicopter and went to Baghdad. Almost got taken down more than once by RPGs. Refueling was a bitch. But I stayed under the radar and I made it back to Baghdad. Got on a computer and made up a new identity for myself. Transferred my money and got the hell out of there."

Gesturing grandly with her arm at her living arrangement she chuckled. "Ravenwood paid me close to four million dollars for the three years I was with them and they managed to help me disappear from themselves. But, if they were to find me, even in this crazy and hectic post-nuclear era they would still kill me."

With a pleading look, she glanced at Heather then back at Beck. Heather had taken a seat on one of the bunks, not wanting to see the footage again of that town in Pakistan. She was breathing heavily.

"Now that you know that, could you possibly think that I'd want a Major from the AS military knowing my whereabouts? I thought Heather was too close to you to allow her to say anything and not be punished for me. I told her the only way she should bring you here was if she knew, for a fact and without a doubt, that you weren't going to either shoot me or turn this town over to that bull shit government."

Her eyes slowly lowered and she went back to her keyboard, bringing up familiar looking files. Beck realized it was the reports that Hawkins had stolen from the command center the day the president had visited.

All of them.

"I guess she thought she could finally fully trust you enough to not hurt us." Beck's attention was shattered as he looked down at Mac. The woman wasn't watching him, her eyes and fingers flying fast over the system, pulling up more information. His gaze slipped to Heather, only to find her gone from the bunk. He could hear footsteps farther away from them; probably in a different pod.

He straightened and moved to the exit. Mac's voice stopped him right before he would have started crawling through the passage. "Major?" He looked back. She was leaning backward in her chair, a consoling expression on her face. "I'm sorry about your wife and daughter. Heather told me you were looking for them and I ran your name through the DOA database that Cheyenne has."

He nodded at her, feeling a familiar cold sneak up his spine. "It says Tuscan, last November."

Beck looked back through the crawlspace. He should really check on Heather. "Thank you Mac. I'm sorry for-"

"Just make sure she's all right. She's been having a rough week too ya know. From what I understand they're still looking for her in New Bern."

He chose to ignore that last comment and crawled through the passageway. Of course they were looking for her in New Bern. She hadn't been in contact with the leadership in days. They were probably worried she'd gotten hurt.

Beck's feet made contact on the floor. He stood. Both of the other 'pods' were dark and he had to listen carefully to figure out where Heather was hiding. A soft sigh gave it away and he headed towards the noise.


	4. Chapter 4

"Heather

Title: For The Grace Of God (4/?)  
Author: Faline  
Rating: PG for now  
Timeline: Post series, follow up to 'Admitting One's Destiny'  
Summary: Beck's got a real war on his hands now and there's far too much going on to be thinking about anyone. Especially not a female. Especially not Heather Lisinsky.

-- -- . -. - / ... - -- .-.. . -.

"Heather? Are you okay?" His voice sounded weak to him and he cleared his throat in an attempt to bolster it. There was no reply from Heather. Beck could see her clearly now that he was in the opening of the last pod.

She hadn't even crawled all the way inside, instead stopping at the other end of the entrance, just sitting with her back against the wall and he knees drawn to her chest.

Seeing her like this wrenched his heart in places he wasn't expecting and he joined her, sitting across the crawlspace from her. Their feet rested next to one another, their legs almost brushing, but Beck made no move to get closer. He realized that this space was padded amply, allowing an ease of lounging.

Mac's comment about his family had brought about a sullen moment. That woman was something else. She told him in a flat, no joking about it, voice that she'd helped slaughter a village of people then said she was sorry about two people she'd never encountered.

It didn't make sense.

Just like his complete lack of intelligence where Heather was concerned.

He chose his next words carefully, not wanting to hurt her anymore.

"I'm sorry I was short with you. I guess I'm still working through that one time I put you behind bars." There was a sour note in his voice now. Self pity. That's what it sounded like to him at least.

In the low light of the space, he could see the right side of her face. She wasn't crying, thankfully, but she looked fairly upset. Angry. Hurt too. Maybe a little guilt, if he read almost too far in to that lost look in her eyes.

"It's been a crazy couple of weeks. I'm trying very hard to remember that you're an innocent in all of this." She focused on him now, turning her face slightly.

There was fright there too. Was she afraid of him? What could he have done to cause her fear? "What can I do to make this up to you?"

Her silence was worse than her yelling at him, calling him a coward. Heather was always outspoken. So what now? What could she possibly be afraid of?

"I heard Mac. Your family is dead?" If he'd sounded weak, she was downright forlorn.

He wasn't sure what to say to that, so he said nothing, nodding instead. A hand slipped from Heather's knee to where his own rested and she grasped his fingers tightly. "I'm so sorry Major."

A tight smile was all he could muster. He felt like he was ten, being told that his dog had been hit by a car and his mother trying to explain that's how life worked. "It's better this way."

"What do you mean?"

And he didn't mean to, really. The look in her face, or maybe the way she gripped her hand, tore something loose in him and he started talking. Explaining that they wouldn't have to suffer this war. That they wouldn't have to see the man he'd become. All the things he'd been bottling up for the last four days.

It just felt right to talk to Heather about this. It felt good to talk to another human being as a human being and not a subordinate.

It felt like having a friend to help him through this difficult time in his life.

As he finished his mini rant, Heather's second hand grasped her first, encasing his in a tight grip.

"You can't possibly think that your wife wouldn't still love you. She was your wife."

"I know. I just can't imagine explaining to her what I've done here. What I did to you."

Heather scoffed at that. "You've apologized for that. And I forgave you, just like I said I would. As for what you did; it's more about what you've done the last few days. You've protected me and my town. You've ensured that if the AS military rolls through here tomorrow, which they might well do, they won't kill each and every one of us."

She sighed, seeing that he didn't look very convinced. "You keep me safe every moment I'm with you. Because at any moment I could be killed."

Beck's eyes widened. And so did Heather's. She obviously hadn't meant to let something slip.

"What are you talking about Heather?" If there'd been more room he probably would have been pacing.

She didn't answer immediately, choosing instead to let go of his hands and lean her head back.

"Heather." His voice was warning now, the same tone he used on his men. The one that allowed no room for discussion.

She took a shuddering breath. "Phil Constantino put a price out on my head. The rangers have caught three people in the last five days that have been sneaking to Jericho to kill me."

Beck saw red momentarily, all the anger he'd felt earlier returning and finding a new target of Constantino. The man was scum; disgusting and vile scum. If he'd have been less of a stickler for the rules he would've let the Rangers kill him when they'd have an opportunity.

"I'll kill him myself." It sounded like a good idea saying out loud. He put a hit on Heather! Beck felt totally justified for the statement. Quickly his mind hatched a plan of attack. It wouldn't do to just barge in there and start shooting with his men.

No, Constantino deserved something much worse.

His hand was on his radio to call for back up but Heather stopped him.

She rose to her knees in front of him and physically removed his hand from the com. He turned a sharp look to her and his breathing stopped.

She was literally inches from his face. He could smell her.

For the love of God. She smelled like lilac and sunshine. Amazing.

She realized the situation she'd put them in and leaned back on her heels. "If you kill him, we'll be courting disaster from more than one location. The AS and New Bern will both be after us and I can't allow you to do that to Jericho. And, if you'll remember, I told you that you keep me safe."

Her hand slid away from his body, fingertips trailing lightly and momentarily across his chest. He looked down at the fabric, hoping to make sense of her logic before doing something stupid.

His mother had always told him that he had a horrible temper when he'd finally crossed the breaking point. And that it was incredibly hard to bring him back from the dark side. But, Heather had managed well enough. In fifteen seconds too.

"Constantino and his men know that if I'm hurt and you're close by, they'll be dead. They have far too much preservation skill for that to happen."

Beck nodded. That made sense. Heather remained on her heels, their legs touching now. This passageway was excruciatingly small. "We should get back to Mac and see what sort of information she's got for us." Heather nodded and they both moved at the same time.

They laughed at themselves as they collided; excruciatingly small indeed. He motioned for Heather to go first, but she didn't move. Instead, she fixed him with a look that was heartbreaking and hopeful at the same time.

"I really am sorry about your wife." She was close again and so help him, Beck couldn't even focus on what she was saying. "If there's anything you need-" The open ended question hung in the air.

So, Beck took the invitation. In a move that surprised the both of them, his hand rose to touch her cheek. She was so beautiful. And so very precious to him.

Heather looked surprised for half a second before a small smile grew on her lips and she leaned forward, bridging the gap.

It was not perfect. It wasn't even all that fantastic, what with trying to pull her close in the crawlspace and keep from falling on his ass.

But, it was heaven. Heather, his Heather, warm in his arms and responding just as much as he was to this thing that had happened here.

Her hands slid from his face to his shoulders then down to his waist. Though small, they were sure and they held at his hips, her thumbs dipping slightly beneath his waistband.

Beck groaned, his own hands traveling down her back, stopping at her lower back.

A throat was cleared and they sprang apart to find Mac, looking rather bemused, standing at the entrance to the pod with her hands on her hips. "I've pulled up all the current satellite imaging I have of active troops within four hundred miles along with a detailed view of J&R's offices in Cheyenne."

Her hand reached to the wall next to her and the light popped on in the pod behind them. Beck and Heather groaned, this time in dismay, and the whiteness nearly blinded them.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm hungry and would like to eat." She waited for them to crawl back to the ante chamber before entering herself. Beck watched her crawl, noting that this must be the kitchen wing. Mac leaned down, and grinned when she caught him watching.

"I'll be making enough for three. I hope you guys like venison."

Beck straightened. And he blushed, noticing Heather was flushed as well. They just looked at each other for a couple of long moments before making the decision to check out the computer wall again.

They both took a computer bank and scanned through information that was on the screens. Beck was stupefied with all of it and couldn't possibly grasp how Mac had managed all of this with limited resources and spotty connection issues.

He grabbed a piece of paper and started jotting down locations and numbers. There did appear to be a column of military vehicles making their way towards Jericho. Or, he thought so at least.

They weren't really moving. He tried magnifying the image and was just happy to hit the right button. The image brought the detail into sharp relief. So, that's what everyone had meant with the roads.

Large craters, at least twenty feet wide, were dotting every major road in and around Cheyenne. Traffic was at a dead stop and Beck could only imagine what would do this. "Come look at this."

The chair creaked behind him and Heather was next to him. "Oh my God, what could have caused that sort of damage?"

He glanced up at her. If he wasn't such a good military man he would have noticed the fine line of her jaw from this angle and the smell of lilacs that had invaded his scent since he'd kissed her.

But, as he was a good military man he looked back at the screen. "There's a host of missiles that every government would have access too. I know that most of the tanks in Fort Polk were cleared out and put on the road right after the attacks. I was actually in a convoy that passed not too far North of here. So, the firepower is there. I just don't know who did it."

"I bet Jake would know." Heather bit her lip and chewed thoughtfully for a moment. When she looked down at him again, her face was red and he figured it was from an image of their kiss.

"I bet he would."

He was a good military man.

He didn't make out with his civilian consorts. He didn't, but he had. And damn it had been nice.

"Heather-"

"Please, don't say anything. The last time I shared an impulsive kiss I didn't talk to the guy for a month and I don't want that to happen with you. I'd miss you too much." Her grin was lopsided at that one.

Beck sighed and grabbed her hand, keeping her anchored to him. "Look, this is strange for me as well. I should be mourning my wife. But, you're here. And if there's one thing my time in Jericho has taught me it's that you can always be relied upon. For anything. You're there for me. You asked if you could do anything. And you did."

He wasn't sure what sort of emotions were filtering across Heather's face now, but he was pretty sure not all of them were good. He'd said that all wrong.

"Then I'm glad I could help." She pulled her hand away. "I'm going to give you some time with these files. You know what you're looking for better than I do. I'll be in the kitchen helping Mac."

And she was gone.

"Aw hell."

**To Be Continued**


	5. Chapter 5

He wanted to go after her

Title: For The Grace Of God (5/5)  
Author: Faline  
Rating: PG for now  
Timeline: Post series, follow up to 'Admitting One's Destiny'  
Summary: Beck's got a real war on his hands now and there's far too much going on to be thinking about anyone. Especially not a female. Especially not Heather Lisinsky.

He wanted to go after her. Badly. To apologize and beg for her to let him explain it in terms that didn't sound like he'd just used her for a sexual comfort.

But, there was so much he wanted to know.

Beck was torn between the two directions. A flash of something on the screen diverted his attention and he watched as the convoy headed towards Jericho was bombed from what looked like an airplane. The satellite hadn't been that detailed, but it had shown the explosion.

It must have been the Texans. Or the US troops.

They were bombing all moving troops. Beck's heart tightened, thinking of the men in those humvees. The government was corrupt but those were honest men down there who were just doing their jobs. Privates who had no reason to be killed.

He wanted to be angry, but he supposed he couldn't. During the very few skirmishes he'd been a part of with the AS troops, they hadn't taken anything lightly. Instead, they'd killed everyone they'd run across.

At least the other companies had. Beck wasn't a very strong supporter of the scorched earth mentality. He remembered the bodies on the screen from earlier then. Jennings and Rall, or Ravenwood, or the AS government, whoever they were, would have no problems killing needless troops.

He still remembered the first time he'd been deployed to help quell resistance in a town. It had been in Nevada. Hot and miserable the townsfolk had hid out in a natural cave system out of town a way. It had been hell clearing it, and it had been more difficult as a man to listen to Colonel Hoffman and Valente tell him to kill any resistance.

He'd been killing Americans.

After that town, Beck made a promise to himself that he wouldn't allow any place to get that out of hand again. He'd keep them safe by keeping them in line. Rules are often there to make life easier. After the bombs, it seemed that rules from J and R were there to keep the citizens in line.

A loud clang came from the kitchen chamber. He scribbled a few more notes down before heading back to the kitchen pod. He had approached silently.

If he hadn't he wouldn't have heard Heather say his name.

"Heather, I don't think he dislikes you. I don't think he was trying to hurt you either." Mac's voice filtered out in to the ante chamber. He approached the entrance to the left, keeping out of their view.

Voice low, Heather replied and Beck had to hold his breath to hear her. "He might not have, but he did. I'm not so blind that I can see when a guy wants me. I'm also not so stupid as to believe that he could want me as a person and not just a warm body to bury his pain inside. He just found out his wife died."

Mac huffed and he could hear some shuffling, the sounds of liquid boiling and maybe bread being cut. "The first time I saw him look at you I knew he cared for you. Maybe too much. Don't forget, he hasn't seen his wife for six months. Not all men are patient."

"He loved her Mac!" Heather's voice was louder this time. As if realizing she'd spoken too loud, her next statement was quiet again. "Stop trying to play the Devil's Advocate Mac. He's not going to just lose the ability to love his wife and forget about her in the span of a few days. You said you found the information in those files from the government right?"

"Yeah. He probably found them at the same time as he found the report from Jennings and Rall. At least I think so. He didn't seem terribly surprised when I told him I was sorry about his family."

A weary body lowered itself in to a chair in the chamber and Beck waited for Heather's reply.

"I do like him Mac, but I'm not going to start poaching on another woman's property, even if she is dead. I told him I didn't want to lose him and that I'd miss him if we stopped talking and I would. I will. But sometimes you just have to know when to cut your losses."

Footsteps approached the person who was sitting and another body was lowered. Beck could tell they were both sitting now. "Heather, you've had a crazy few months. Hell, by all rights you should be dead."

Heather chuckled. "I would be if I didn't have such fine guardian angels."

Beck frowned. What did she mean by guardian angels?

"Oh, stop bringing that up dammit. He was just trying to help you. You know if he hadn't approached Constantino you'd have been killed. Because you're nosy and inquisitive and can't leave well enough alone when you aught to."

"Which is why I'm leaving Beck alone. He's right about a war brewing. If someone is keeping the AS stationary, whether it's the US or the Texans, then war is coming on and fast. He works better when he has work to bury himself in. He'll forget about this. He'll remember his wife, but only when he's done for the day. I have the feeling that's how he's always been."

Suddenly Beck felt like he was a child being stripped down in a parent teacher conference. Something about the way Heather was breaking down his mental process for dealing with stress just didn't sit so well. This was not a situation he liked being in. At all.

He retraced his steps and returned, this time making a lot more noise. As he ducked his head below the passage, he found Mac and Heather sitting along the far wall at a table, sipping coffee.

There was guilt in Heather's eyes when he caught them. Pain too. "There's a convoy headed quick. I need to get back to camp and alert my men. I think I'm going to try and get a hold of Jake as well. Perhaps the Texans can fill me in on the plan so far."

Heather stood at that, shuffling forward. He held up a hand, signaling her to stop. "Stay and enjoy dinner. It smells better than what we've been receiving lately. Mac, can you get her home or should I send out an escort?"

Beck had no worries whatsoever that Mac could transport Heather without incident. She was a trained Ranger after all. Mac nodded and gave Heather's hand a squeeze. "I'll get her back."

He nodded thoughtfully. Heather still had a price out on her head and he didn't want to risk sending her back to town. "Take her to the camp. Drop her off at the front gates and they'll get her set up with accommodations."

"What?!" There were no shuffling forward steps at that. She charged across the room, leaning over herself to continue to look at him. "Why are you sending me to the Camp?"

He remembered the look on her face when they'd first met, after he'd told her that she was to remain in Camp Hayward until the area was secure. It looked a lot like the one she was wearing now.

"Look, you've got a hit on you and I don't have time to take care of it right now. I can't let you get hurt Heather."

Still fuming, Heather climbed through the tunnel. Beck took a step back so she could rise. 'I've been managing well enough without your safe haven so far and I will continue to do so. I'm not going to abandon my home again because you don't want me in danger. We're all in danger now Major. And sticking me in an Army hut won't change that."

Beck shook his head. He didn't think she'd be this upset about his arrangements. Honestly. Flabbergasted. And flummoxed. And every other word that meant stunned but hadn't been used in normal conversation for over a century.

Eyes blazing, Heather waited for an explanation. And he really couldn't give her one. "I-" He took a deep breath, waiting to reach a calm where he could explain this again without sounded like an idiot.

"I told you that you're reliable. I didn't expound on that enough I think."

He grabbed her hand, hoping this small contact would convey what he was trying to say a little better. "You are an anchor for me. You've always been there, true to what really should be done and not what I want to get done. It was you that made me doubt the government. It was you that still stayed for me, even after all that's happened."

He drew a little closer now, sensing he was getting through to her. "For almost two months now you've been someone I knew would help me get to where I needed to be. If you're gone," his voice stuck on the last word. He cleared his throat.

"If I lost you I would lose that anchor and that objectivity. Please let me protect you as much as I can." He tightened the grip on her hand and searched her face for something, anything, to let him know that she was finally getting it.

It wasn't much, but the nod assured him that she would accept it. "Will you at least let the Rangers know where I am so they don't worry? They have the tendency to do that, especially Eric."

"I will, don't worry."

She laughed bitterly and for the first time Beck noticed that her eyes were a little more watery than normal. "I don't think just telling me not to worry is going to make me not worry. Sorry, but I'm a little upset at the moment."

Beck pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. He could feel Heather shift her body, positioning a little better, before her arms slipped around his waist. She wasn't crying and he wasn't crying. Just comfort.

He knew he should say something to make her feel better about the kiss. Tell her that it was all right. His brain struggled to form the right words. "I just want you to be safe. I can't just let you go and not talk to you for a month. I'd miss you too much."

He gave her own words back to her, not knowing what else would do. She pushed her head up and leaned back, looking him in the face. Calculating eyes raked his features and locked on his gaze. "That's what I was afraid of."

With a smile she let go of him and stepped away. "Be safe." Almost as a second thought, she waved her arm at the door. "The password is 1013 to get out at both doors."

No more of a good bye than that, she crawled back in to the pod and left him alone in the hallway. He stood for only a few moments before taking his leave, the information he'd gained on the AS military burning a hole in his flak jacket.

.-- .- .-. -... . --. .. -. ...

Beck made the trip back quickly, mindful of the approaching troops. At the gate, he let the sentry know that they could expect two women some time that evening and that they should admit them and give them an escort to his tent. Leaving behind the gates, he made his way to his command center.

Though the Sheriff's office was a convenient way to keep tabs on the town when he needed, his camp was really the base of operations for anything that was required of his men. His humvee ground to a stop outside the door an he didn't even both moving it to a less busy location. He'd need it again before the evening was done.

At the door, a young Sergeant met him, concern in her eyes. Sandoval. She had been with his company for three months or so now. Almost nervously, she was always ready to take orders whenever she saw him, willing to jump at any chance to help. Though not terribly quick, she was dedicated. And that always counted for something in Beck's book.

"Major? We've been looking for you."

He glanced at her in surprise as he passed through the entrance. Inside, the room was buzzing. He hadn't seen this much activity in a while and he knew immediately something was wrong. His eyes found his company commanders. All four were standing in a tight circle, talking quietly. He approached.

Jones was the first to notice him, not even bothering with a salute before speaking. "Sir, a helicopter landed a half hour ago with Colonel Hoffman and three others on it. We put the Colonel in the tent next to yours and the other three are taking up a spare space in the last barrack."

Beck blinked. A quiet panic rolled into his brain. How could they have possibly missed a helicopter approaching in Mac's shelter? With all her equipment? Quickly his mind ran through all the options he had at that moment. "Are your men briefed on our new protocol concerning AS military?"

Jones nodded. "Yes sir. Business as usual until we are known to be defective. They won't give the company away. I think all of them realize the seriousness."

"Good." Beck nodded in appreciation. "I'm going to go take care of the Colonel." He reached in to his jacket, pulling out the notes he'd made. "There are AS troops headed our way. I want you to get this to strategy as soon as possible so they can start working out a plan. I'll be back in thirty minutes."

Jones and the other three saluted this time and he returned it before leaving the tent. He got back in the humvee and headed to his tent. If Hoffman was here, he either knew something was up or Jericho really was going to be used as a staging point.

He stopped at his tent first, dropping off his flak vest and helmet. He was safe in camp, beyond a doubt. And he'd rather be comfortable at least for the coming exchange.

At the entrance to the tent next to his, he took a deep and calming breath. He had contemplated bringing the proof of the government's corruption with him but decided against it. He considered the Colonel to be military through and through and he didn't think it'd be wise to jump in without testing the waters.

A small voice at the back of his reminded him that he had been devoted to his military through and through before he'd come to Jericho as well. But, he'd had the benefit of Heather to help him see the truth.

Beck didn't believe he could be that voice of reason to the Colonel. He'd been through hell and back with Hoffman, but they'd never been friends. They'd been commander and soldier.

He announced himself with a knock on the frame. A voice called him in and he pushed aside the flap. It was almost black inside the tent, except for a small lamp on the desk that the Colonel was sitting in, on the far side. Shadows hid the walls and a shadier assignation he couldn't imagine. The Colonel rose when Beck entered and he saluted.

"It's good to see you again Major. I was glad to hear that you were able to gain control of the area finally." He returned the solute but didn't take a seat.

"I'm sorry we weren't better prepared for your visit sir. I had no idea you were coming."

A rueful smile crossed the Colonel's face. "I had no idea I'd be called to the area. I know you've been in the dark the last few days. Texas has been systematically bombing all of our strategic hold points and the roads in and around any location we have camps set up."

There was a strange tint to his CO's eyes now. "I'm surprised they haven't bombed this area yet."

Beck straightened his spine, if it was possible. "I'm not. Considering Jake Green is in Texas, I would imagine they'd leave his home town alone."

"It makes me wonder Major. It makes me wonder if perhaps he hasn't had his hand in the military's business here." Hoffman took a step closer, challengingly.

'_Damn.'_

"Sir?"

The Colonel sighed and picked up a folder he'd been flipping through. He handed it to Beck, who took it and opened it. Inside was a detailed description of a security breach in the AS mainframe in Cheyenne along with the reworking of a satellite. There were pictures as well.

An overshot view of Mac's trailer was there, and Heather was in the photo, talking with Mac. Heather wasn't wearing the jacket he'd given her; the pictures were at least a few days old. That eased some of the worry that was tightening around his heart. Perhaps the Colonel didn't know about Beck's involvement yet.

"What am I looking at Sir?"

"The two women in that photo, do you know them?"

"I know one of them, but so do you. What's going on?"

Hoffman took the folder back and laid it on the desk again. He remained with his back to Beck. "The other woman is a known war criminal who was working with Ravenwood in Pakistan a few years back. She fell off their radar after aiding in the deaths of 352 villagers. They, and we, have been looking for her since. It seems odd that your liaison would be talking to her and you wouldn't know about it."

Beck's worry now turned to full on fear. He tried to keep his voice as even as possible. "Heather is given free reign in town. She needs the space to work effectively. I've never doubted her dedication to the government however. If that is the criminal you're talking about in that picture with her than I'm sure Heather doesn't know about her crimes."

His voice still low and his back still turned, the Colonel chuckled under his breath. "I find it amusing that two criminals, terrorists, have originated from this town and both times you seem to have no knowledge of either until I or someone else points it out."

The Colonel's hand shifted from the desk to his hip, where his gun was held. Beck saw the movement and his own hand lowered.

"Major, have you defected or are you just that blind?"

Beck drew his gun at that, knowing that the Colonel had caught him. And he now had two choices. He could allow himself to be arrested. Or, he could fight.

Surrender was not a viable option in his head.

"Sir, there are things you don't know that are preventing you from understanding my current position. If you'd like, I can show you the proof that has changed my mind. But, if you resist I'm afraid I will have to put you under arrest."

Another chuckle from the Colonel. "Under whose authority?"

The Colonel turned now, amusement no longer evident.

Beck raised his gun. "Mine."

He was expecting the Colonel to agree to his terms. Hoffman wasn't overly unreasonable. And he would be a fantastic ally.

What he wasn't expecting was the sound of a gun being cocked behind him. Or the sound of the bullet being fired.

Pain blossomed from his back and surprise filled his eyes. Hoffman approached him slowly as he sank to his knees, blood flowing to the floor from the hole in his back.

"There are things you don't know that prevent you from understanding the greater goal of the military Major."

The world faded away slowly from Beck. He heard Hoffman say something about going out to the trailer and he couldn't even raise a protest.

i'I told her I'd keep her safe. I can't even breathe right. Heather, run.'/i

Blackness swallowed him whole.

**The End**

_A/N: So, I understand the ramifications of leaving a story like this, but as I was writing the last few pages I realized that this is a fantastic turning point for Beck, for Beck and Heather, and for the town of Jericho as a whole. And I want to be able to tell it from everyone's perspective. I was hoping to be able to accomplish that from Beck's perspective, but I can't._

_So, consider this the end of the first book of a series of stories. It's not over, I promise._

_Also, thank you everyone for the kind reviews : )_


End file.
